Page 36 of Forged in Fading

“All these elves,” Alvara said, “they give so much to your cause. Yet you’re able to save your own skin, day after day.”

He placed her father’s dagger in her hand. The familiar weight settled something inside of Alvara, even as she watched the poor elf shuffle to the edge of her porch.

“Don’t worry, Alvara,” Boden said as he offered the elderly female an arm. “My skin is far beyond saving.” He gestured to an intricate carving of an owl, so lifelike it might have flown away. “Is that one new?”

The female’s eyes sparked to life, and she chattered on about her passion for woodworking as Boden led her to her slaughter.

Chapter Thirteen

The prospect of training with someone other than Boden brought a fresh wave of excitement, until Alvara realized who had been assigned to her.

Ravanel.

She couldn’t fathom why no one else had any interest in spending time around someone who could slice their throat with an errant thought.

Though with how little he spoke and how much he likely still wanted to throttle her, she doubted he had any interest in training her either. Boden had likely made him because of his ability to absorb magic, but at least she was less likely to blast him into pieces than the others.

An uncontrolled shower of snow hit a nearby trunk, and Alvara glared at the tree she had been aiming for, its dark bark still untouched by her magic. Her ties with her powers had grown stronger, but her use of it was still erratic and generally unsuccessful. “How do you do this?”

Ravanel looked at her like she had grown an extra head. “Magic?”

“Yes, obviously. We’ve barely spoken two words to each other. What else could I be talking about?”

He withered her to dust with his gaze. “It comes naturally to me.”

“I really did mean it when I said I was sorry for what I did to Kat. I’m trying my best to learn to control my magic, so it never happens again.”

“I’m here for Boden, not you. He’s too damn nice.”

Boden. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what would happen to that poor elf. What Boden would let happen to her. “Nice? He only seems to help himself.” Alvara launched another flurry of flakes, much stronger than she had intended, but a vicious wind turned its direction, and it splattered her in the face. Damn these males and their magic.

She plopped herself into the snow and wiped the sleet from her eyes, the cold tingling against her skin. “How do you know each other?”

He crossed his arms as his gaze skimmed the tree line. “Ela.”

Gods, it was like trying to have a conversation with Pyry. A small pang of guilt lodged itself in Alvara’s gut—hopefully he was safe. “And?”

“My father is part of King Ulivar’s council. We visited Ela often when I was younger. I met Boden in the palace.”

“So, you saw what he did for the king, and it didn’t bother you?”

“He does what he has to.”

Alvara huffed, and a strong breeze rustled the trees.

“Keep whatever thoughts you have to yourself if you want to continue training.”

Want was a strong word for how Alvara felt about her magic, but she kept her mouth shut. Improving her control of it was the only way to ensure she could stay and continue her sister’s work.

While Alvara’s control improved slightly over the next few days, her interactions with Ravanel did not. He only spoke when necessary and ignored any questions she posed that were unrelated to their training.

Meanwhile, the reports of human attacks in Dalvi only multiplied. Each whisper of the suffering sank another stone in Alvara’s stomach. Someone had to warn her people that this was just a grander part of King Einar’s plan—it was only going to get worse.

After a long day of somewhat productive training with Ravanel and muscle-numbing work at the forge, Alvara headed to the food hall. Not that she felt like eating much anyway, but her body needed it. Between training, blacksmithing, and finding small moments to practice her combat forms, Alvara’s body had never been more sore.

She pried open the door with aching fingers and slipped inside the deliciously warm building with every intention of grabbing a plate of food and making a quick escape to eat alone in her tiny room. But a cheery voice rang out from one of the tables. She ducked her head as if that would somehow hide her gray hair among the other elves.

“Alvara! Eat with us!”